


Truth or Duncan

by thesilverdoe



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Teacher-Student Relationship, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7821433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesilverdoe/pseuds/thesilverdoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's nearing the end of a late study session at Greendale and Britta gets the idea to play truth or dare. You agree to play and somehow find yourself standing in front of Professor Duncan's office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth or Duncan

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure 99% of the reason I wrote this was for the terrible pun in the title. 
> 
> I've written smut before but never gotten the courage to post it, so I'm sorry if this is shit. Also, I have no idea how to write Duncan but dammit we need more sin of this man, cause I mean, John Oliver as a teacher, need I say more?

You stood in front of the door to your teacher’s office. Well, not just any teacher’s office, Professor Ian Duncan’s to be exact; the slightly odd, usually hungover English psychology teacher. You had just come out of a long evening study session and now you were in front of his office because you needed to ask him something. You wanted to be literally anywhere else right now. In fact, you had an essay to write and a test on Wednesday you could be studying for and doing those didn’t sound half-bad right about now. There were a hundred more important things you could be doing. And yet…

Ugh, this was all Britta and Annie’s fault.

You should have never agreed to play truth or dare.

-  
“You guys, I’m bored. Let’s do something before we all go home. My ride isn’t here yet and I don’t want to be in an empty study room in Greendale at night.” Britta said.

“Like what? I really need to pass this test, Britta.” Annie had her nose practically buried in her books while she scribbled some notes, studying for the math test you were all preparing for next week.

“Truth or dare.” She said.

“Truth or dare?” you asked, “What are we, twelve?”

Britta waved you off. “Oh, it’ll be fun. Annie you’re going to get an A like you always do, put your stuff away.” Annie rolled her eyes, sighing. She resigned and cleared her end of the lunch table of her books, highlighters, calculator and pencils.

“Great,” Britta smiled and leaned forward. “(Y/N), you can go first.”

You shook your head, gesturing to your right. “No way. Annie, you go.”

“Oh, fine.” Annie put the last pencil in her backpack and zipped it up. “Truth or dare, Britta?”

“Truth.”

“Did you really mean it when you said I looked cute in that sweater yesterday?”

“Nope.”

Annie scoffed. “I knew it, you dirty liar.”

“Whatever, now it’s my turn. (Y/N), truth or dare?”

There was no way in hell you were going to be the first person to pick dare, “Truth.”

“Lame,” Britta complained. “Alright, fine.”

The game of truth or dare went on for a while; the last time you looked out the window the sun was setting, and now it was dark blue, highlighted only by the street lamps outside and the very last sliver of light before the sun set completely. Britta was balancing books on her head for a few minutes now and Annie was asked to speak in a Scottish accent for the remainder of the game while standing on one foot. You, however had only picked dare once, in which Annie commanded you to run around the building three times, which resulted in you being out of breath more than humiliated. She wasn’t very creative at truth or dare, but it wasn’t her fault that she never played it as a kid.  
It was Annie’s turn again. “Truth or dare?” she asked you.

“Truth,” you reply, leaning back in your chair with arms crossed. Britta and Annie both groaned.

“Okay, next time you have to say dare.” Britta said. “ _Have_ to. You haven’t done anything yet.”

“Fine, but I already said truth.” You looked back at Annie, who was brainstorming questions to ask.

Annie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I have a good one. You’ll love me for this, Britta.” You raise an eyebrow, wondering of every possible question Annie would think to ask you. “You told us you have a crush on one of your teachers…” She leaned in closer to you. “Who is it?”

“OHHH!” Britta shouted, her eyes wide with excitement. “Great one, Annie!”

“No way, no way!” You shook your head.

“Oh, come on!” Annie whined, bouncing in her chair, pout on her face. “You said truth, and now you have to answer my question. It’s how the game works.”

“Fine, fine. You guys are gonna laugh though.” You paused and shut your eyes for a moment. You couldn’t believe what you were about to say. “It’s… Duncan.”

“What?!” They asked in unison, looking at you in bewilderment and then at each other.

You had never seen Britta with a wider grin, and Annie covered her open mouth with her hand. “No freaking way, I knew it!” Britta exclaimed, and instantly the both of them bombarded you with questions.

“Whoa, whoa, stop, I can’t answer five hundred questions at once.”

“Sorry,” Annie said. “But… why do you even like him? He’s weird. And he comes to nearly every class hungover.”

“I dunno…” You scratched the back of your head. “You guys know I have a thing for nerdy guys. And British guys! He’s a nerdy, British guy. He’s like Kryptonite for me.”

“You should totally ask him out, he’s not seeing anybody.” Britta raised her eyebrows at you suggestively.

“He’s my teacher!” you cried, hands flying into the air. “And he’s at least a decade older than I am. Besides, we’re friends, I don’t want to ruin that…”

“You’re friends?” Annie asked.

“Yeah. Well, I think he’d consider me a friend. I’ve been into his office a few times for help – when he’s actually sober, and sometimes we just chat afterward.” You noticed your friends’ stares and you began to feel uncomfortable. “Can we just get back to the game? Britta, it’s your turn.”

“Okay, fine. (Y/N), truth or dare? And you said you would say dare.”

You sighed. “Dare.”

A smile stretched across Britta’s face. “You have to ask Duncan on a date.”

“What?! No! Out of the question. No.” Britta and Annie high fived each other. “No!” You emphasized.

“He said in class this morning that he would be in his office tonight until 9, it’s 8:45. You should go right now, because I know you won’t ask him tomorrow.” Britta said.

“I won’t even ask him today! I’m not playing anymore.” You put your foot down. There was no way in hell you were going to go through with this.

-

And yet you found yourself standing in front of the door to Duncan’s office. Your brain was replaying what exactly Britta and Annie did or said to get you here, you still weren’t sure. A shiny gold plaque was mounted on his door that read: ‘Prof. Ian Duncan’. Your eyes read the words over and over, as if saying his name a thousand times in your head would get him to answer the door, but you were hoping a meteorite would crash into the school before that happened. Maybe you’d get lucky and somebody would still be around and pull the fire alarm. Nothing happened.

Technically you didn’t have to be here. It was truth or dare, it’s not like there was a gun to your head, and even though this was the worst idea ever, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you did ask Duncan out. Worst case scenario would be that it becomes awkward between the two of you and you can’t even look each other in the eye. Ouch. You didn’t know if you could live with that for a whole month before the semester ended. You could just leave right now, get in your car and go home, it would certainly spare you the embarrassment.

While you debated with yourself, the door of Duncan’s office swung open.

Well, crap.

“Oh! (Y/N), what brings you here?” The professor smiled and those dimples of his made your stomach do somersaults.

You blurted out the first excuse that you could think of. “I had a question about something in chapter eight.” You didn’t, actually, and you read it all last night. Why didn’t you just apologize for wasting his time and walk away?

“Well come on in.” He gestured inside, holding the door open for you. He was wearing a red and white plaid shirt, a black tie and one of his signature vests. The vest was usually overkill, but it was oddly adorable in a way; adorable in an Ian Duncan sort of way. It fit him. He shut the office door behind him when you found a spot on the couch to sit on.

He was being an actual human being, which meant that he hadn’t had a drink all day, or he hadn’t been drinking excessively, at least. It was nice seeing him this way; he could be a downright jerk when he was drunk, which brought you back to why you had a crush on the man in the first place. He pulled out the chair to his desk. “So, what’s puzzling you?”

“Oh, um…” Since you read the chapter already you had to pull another fake excuse out of your ass. “The section on operant and classical conditioning.”

“Really? I’d have thought this would be one of the easier sections for you, but alright then.”

Duncan began explaining about half the chapter while you sat awkwardly in your seat, trying to think of an excuse to leave. You felt bad about wasting his time, but you also didn’t want to go back to the study room and face Britta and Annie teasing you for the rest of the week for chickening out on the dare. But you really did want to see if he liked you the same way you did him, even though that would never happen in a thousand years. This whole situation was just a mess.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Duncan’s hand tap your right shoulder.

“Oh, sorry, what?” You asked, feeling sheepish.

“I asked you a question and said your name three times.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you still confused?”

You tried to find the right words. Either say good night and leave now or ask him out like you came here for.

“If there’s something wrong, you can tell me.” Duncan extended his arm and he placed a hand over yours. You looked down, your stare frozen at the sight of your hands touching.

Duncan must have realized what he’d done and pulled his arm back. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.”

“No.” Without even thinking, you leaned forward to grab his hand again.

Duncan looked down at where your hands met and then into your eyes. The genuineness in his expression fizzled and was replaced by a smirk, and his tone was smug now. “I was wondering when you would finally do that. You can’t resist me.”

You ripped your arm back away from his. “Ugh!” You said in disgust as you began to gather your things to leave. “This was a mistake.”

“No, no, no, no! I’m sorry.” Duncan stood up and ran across the room before you could get to the door. It appeared that he was reaching out to touch your shoulder, but decided against it and let his arms rest at his sides. “Please stay.”

The room was filled with a quiet, tense air as you mulled over whether you should forget about this and leave, or give him a second chance. You wanted to leave but something within in you just wouldn’t let you. You rolled your eyes and turned around to face him. “You’re really something, you know that? You were being so nice – nicer than usual, and of course when I let my guard down you show that it was all an act. You’re an ass.”

Duncan’s voice became hard. “I did not invite you into my office so you could insult me.”

A sarcastic ‘ha’ escaped your lips. “Yeah, and I didn’t come here to have my psychology teacher act all skeevy toward me.”

He crossed his arms. “And why _did ___you come here?”

You were inches away from the door and you had half a mind to just slam it in his face. “That doesn’t matter anymore.”

“No, no, go on,” he challenged. “Why did you come here? You think I don’t have better things to do?”

“What, besides drinking yourself to sleep?”

“Ooh, that’s original,” Duncan said dryly. “I asked you a question.”

“If it’s so important to you, I was going to ask you out to lunch sometime, but not anymore!” Your face felt warm and you were pretty sure you were blushing. Now he definitely knew how you felt about him.

Duncan went from pissed to confused, he uncrossed his arms and blinked a few times, piecing it all together. “You were going to ask me out?”

You shuffled side to side nervously. “Yeah,” you replied. All the fire in your voice was now just a puff of smoke, and you didn’t want to look at him now for fear of what he would say.

“You wouldn’t want to date me…” Duncan finally said. “You deserve better.”

“Duncan…”

“No, really, like you said, I’m skeevy and an ass and vile. When there’s a girl I like a lot for some damned reason I can’t act like a normal man…” He had a vulnerable look in his eyes. “I really was being nice to you just then, but I fucked it up like I always do.”

You wished you knew what to say, but you were speechless again. Your heart sank upon hearing his self-loathing, and at the same time couldn’t let go of the fact that he just admitted he liked you too. The words repeated in your ears over and over again. Duncan’s office was silent again excepting your footsteps as you stood just inches from him, taking his hand and holding it again like you had before.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

You looked up into his eyes. “I’m… not really sure.”

“You should go home.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I’ll just push you away.”

“I don’t care.”

“You deserve better.”

“I _want ___you.”

Your words hung in the air for a moment as the two of you stood mere inches from each other in total silence. His face and body were so close to yours you could almost feel the electricity between the two of you. Were you this close twelve seconds before? No. Yes? You didn’t remember.

And the two of you moved even closer as your lips met. It was a soft, gentle kiss, but you could feel the emotion behind it and you couldn’t help but melt into him.

Duncan broke away, “Please stay,” he said just above a whisper and exactly the way he said it before you stormed out of his office.

You said nothing but kissed him back to let him know that you weren’t going anywhere. The second kiss was less gentle and more passionate, Duncan rested his hands on your hips and you wrapped your arms around his neck, one of your hands running through his dark ebony hair that was ridiculously softer between your fingers than it looked. The smell of his cologne you couldn’t place, but it was really damn good and just did more to turn you into a puddle of goo.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away from the kiss again and the two of you were panting. You slowly led him to the couch where he sat down and you climbed onto his lap. You closed your fingers around his tie and tugged it lightly, pulling his face to yours so your lips could meet his again. One of Duncan’s hands rested between your shoulder blades while the other inched down your spine and stopped at the curve of your ass. He broke off the kiss to give attention to your neck, his tongue slowly tracing a line from your collarbone to your jaw. The feel of his warm, wet tongue on your skin sent tingles up your spine and you shut your eyes when he began sucking on your skin. He was giving you a huge hickey that would probably last the rest of the week, but you didn’t care. His hands were all over your body and each place he touched you left a trail of goosebumps on your skin.

Shifting slightly, you felt something hard press into your thigh, and then heard a soft grunt from Duncan. Ooh. You wanted to hear that again. You grinded your hips into his and he made the same breathy sound. After the third time he realized that you were doing it on purpose.

“Oh, you bad girl.” He swatted your ass playfully.

You gasped. “Ian!”

“You’ve never called me Ian before,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. He slapped your ass again and you arched into him. “I like it.” His voice was deeper than usual, which made that accent of his sound that much more pleasing to your ears. You closed your eyes and kissed him again, your hands fumbling with the knot to his tie and untying it; then he followed suit, breaking off the kiss and tugging your shirt up over your head. It was surprising how fast two people could undress so they could touch each other again; you were left in nothing but your underwear now, and him in his boxers.

Ian shifted, moving you so your back was to the couch and now he was above you, one hand cupping your soft breast and his mouth giving attention to your chest, teasing your nipple with his tongue. As this was happening his other hand made a trail down your stomach and to your thighs, playfully caressing you. It felt like fire between your legs and God what was taking him so long to just touch you. He stroked you through your underwear, rubbing you everywhere that felt good except where you needed it most, until he tugged the last piece of clothing clinging to your body and pressed a thumb to you and _finally ___.

While he made tiny circles around your clit, two of his dexterous, slim fingers found their way to your entrance and you couldn’t help but whimper. You thought about how you’d just been sitting here ten minutes ago going over psychology homework and now your teacher was finger fucking you. Oh, it was so wrong.

“You’re so wet, and you’re shaking.” He said, his eyes lit up with delight at seeing how your body reacted to him. He moved the hand teasing your breasts next to your head and he guided his tongue up your body to kiss your neck again. You felt raging fire catch all over your body where Ian touched you and you honestly weren’t sure how much longer you could keep it together. Your thighs were trembling, hips bucking, and you were sure you had moaned his name a few times. The inevitable was getting closer, until he pulled away from you and you had to try not to whine like a spoiled child. Ian took off his boxers and his hardness sprung up, glistening wet at the tip. Fuck.

“Before I do anything either of us regret, you sure..?”

“Ian, I’m going to fucking explode if you don’t fuck me right now.” Everything in your body was screaming his name.

He laughed at your impatience and settled into a position in front of your entrance and pushed in. You wrapped your legs around his waist and gasped when you felt him inside you, filling you. He started out slow, at an agonizing pace. You weren’t sure if he was making sure you were comfortable or teasing you but either way, it was driving you mad.

“Ian, God, please faster.”

He lowered his body and kissed your jaw sloppily as he picked up the pace and you felt like your whole body was singing with his. He was hitting you deeper now and you were digging your nails into his back. You cherished every moan and grunt that escaped his lips and you did anything you could to hear more of it. “You feel so good,” you encouraged him. Occasionally a moan of your name escaped his lips and you felt like you could come then and there hearing your name paired with that lovely accent.

Every thrust of his hips sent you spiraling closer to your climax, and his strokes were getting fewer and farer between, so you knew he was just seconds away from coming too.

“Ian, I’m-“ you managed to moan out before your orgasm overtook you and you felt your legs shudder, your walls tightening against his hard cock. Your back arched upwards and you shouted a long string of curse words and his name to the sky. Ian managed to pump out a few more thrusts and then he was a shuddering, shaking mess too. He moaned your name and kissed you as he rode out his climax, hips snapping into you.

You felt his body relax and he pulled out, shifting so he could lay down on the couch next to you. The two of you regained your breath as you cuddled in satisfied silence.

“Was it good?” Ian spoke finally as his fingers played with your hair.

“Good? More like fucking phenomenal.”

“I’m glad.”

“So…” you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “How about that date?”

Ian laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I've never posted smut before. But if you liked it, please let me know!


End file.
